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Virginia Beach
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Corey hadn’t asked many questions. He’d seemed a little surprised when Maddock had asked him to come along, and not Willis or Matt, but he’d been pleased. The man was quiet, not as outgoing as the others in the crew, but he was steadfast. As their tech specialist, he usually kept to the background. Still, Maddock had watched the man work miracles with balky equipment and unreliable data. Besides, he counted on Corey’s calm demeanor to balance Bones’ impatience.
They found their friend holed up in a little white cottage just off a broad sandy beach. He met them outside. Still limping slightly from his wound , Bones walked around behind a low dune. A few families were out on the beach, but the scene was quiet. Bones shook his head sadly. “They call this place Chicks Beach and look, nothing but middle-aged moms and their kids. Not that I have anything against moms, but that’s more Corey’s speed.”
“Screw you, Bones,” Corey said, grinning.
“Where’s Sally?” Maddock asked.
“Sleeping. We haven’t been here long.”
“Any more idea of what you’ve gotten us into?”
Bones shook his head. “Not entirely. There wasn’t any privacy on our bus so we couldn’t talk. I think I’ve managed to convince her that the two of you are trustworthy. She said we’d talk when we were all together.” He lowered his voice. “I actually thought about calling Jimmy, but you know how he is.”
Maddock nodded. “My thoughts exactly.” Jimmy Letson was a former comrade in the Navy, and an accomplished hacker. He was also pushy and abrasive. Not the sort of person you’d want to help ease a frightened person out of her shell.
They entered the cottage to find Corey examining a thin notepad computer.
“I wouldn’t touch that, Dude. If she sees you screwing with it, she’ll go off on you. I’m not kidding.”
Moments later the bedroom door opened, and a young woman stepped inside. She was short and wore a wrinkled black hoodie about four sizes too big, black tights, and slip-on deck shoes to match. She glared at the three men in turn, and her eyes came to rest on Corey.
“Okay ginger, what were you doing with my computer?”
Corey blanched and ran a hand through his short, red hair. “Just looking.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” She snatched up her computer, glared at Corey, then her demeanor softened. “Sorry. I’m not usually such a bitch. Well, people say I am, but I have good reasons.”
Maddock smiled. “No worries. I’m Dane Maddock, but everyone just calls me Maddock. This is Corey Dean, our technical specialist.”
She pursed her lips, still eyeing Corey with suspicion. “You’re the cavalry? I was expecting someone more... thuggish.”
“That’s what I’m for,” Bones said.
“That’s little comfort, Bonehead.” She turned to Maddock. “Okay, Murdock. What’s the plan?”
“Maddock.”
“Whatever.” She stopped, squeezed her eyes shut for a second. “I have, like no manners. I’m Sally Smith.”
“Good to meet you. Tell me about your magic program.”
“Her noodle network,” Bones said.
“It’s not magic. I told Bonebrake, it’s a computer model, a neural-network with some enhancements of my own.”
“It’s a predictive model. It took your personal preferences, combined it with other variables, like the time of day, and predicted what you would like to eat at that moment.”
“I still think it’s witchcraft,” Bones said. “That thing works too well.”
“Wait,” Corey said. “If it’s really that effective, there’s potential to use something like that to predict all sorts of consumer behavior, sociological issues. Hell, I don’t know, applied properly you might could predict the stock market.”
“Yeah, well that is exactly what these guys do when they aren’t shooting at Bonehead and me. Their buddies on Wall Street have models of their own. The lot of them spend all day trying to get one millisecond’s jump on each other. My model is different; it’s based on people, not the market. It doesn’t track stock movement, it tracks peoples’ reactions to the movement. It even takes into account variations in reaction due to external factors: socioeconomic, political, fluctuations in the market, even the weather.”
Maddock thought for a moment, trying to imagine just how many people would kill for such a program. “That’s pretty expansive. How far out can it project?”
“Days, sometimes more.” Sally looked around. “Do you understand now? Well I didn’t. I was stupider than the lot of you put together doing shots at a fraternity bash. I used it myself. Just to pay off my student loans and to have a little walking around money,” she added.
Corey gave a wry grin. “And the Sith Lords of Wall Street felt a disturbance in the force.”
“Did they ever. I had to vanish. Fortunately, my uncle Will needed a waitress. I’ve been hiding out at the Syber Café ever since. Working for cash, keeping off the grid.”
“So, they tracked you down to the café and bribed some cops to bring you in. Rather, to take you into custody and make you disappear. You’re already off the grid, so it’s no great risk to them.” Maddock said. “You’d disappear, and suddenly a fresh crop of billionaires would pop up on the Street. Why didn’t they just buy the model from you?”
“These guys don’t like to buy what they can steal. And they sure don’t want to leave a source of future competition out there. Besides, I’m not terribly inclined to sell.”
“And you’re sure it wouldn’t be safe to just cruise on back to Key West and hang out with us?” Corey said.
Bones shook his head. “They probably know who I am.” He told of his trip to the New York City Library, most of it anyway. “That map must have fallen out of my pocket back at the Café. I figure they’ve talked to Jessica by now.”
“And how much would she have told them?”
“She’s got my number, but I don’t think she knows my last name, or even my actual given name. And we never really left the beach.” Bones paused. The others stared at him. “Well, it was dark, okay? We were discrete. I was anyway, and she...”
Sally broke in. “Okay, we get the picture. There are also bound to be fingerprints and drops of blood you left behind. Now that you’ve assaulted a cop, the department will investigate. Any chance you’re in the system?”
Bones nodded. “Not for anything too bad, but it amounts to the same thing.”
“Can you tell us who, exactly, is after you?” Maddock asked.
“I can. Pym Investment Trust, a particularly rapacious hedge-fund managed by Augustus Pym Senior. Augustus Junior handles the dirty work. They are a criminal gang masquerading as investment bankers. That raid yesterday had Junior, as everyone calls him, written all over it.” Sally spent the next few minutes telling how she’d been yanked out of class at Colombia by campus police and handed over to a private security force. “They called themselves field agents. A bunch of Russian mercenaries, I can imagine what kind of field work they do. I spent two wonderful hours with him, locked in a closed office. I won’t bore you with the details, but he made it painfully clear that I wouldn’t leave there alive without first giving him access to my models.”
Bones said, “Then you broke a chair over his head and escaped.”
“No, he had me on a sofa. I had to wait until he was close, very close, and um... occupied. Then I bit a chunk out of his ear. He started screaming, one of his agents opened the door, some grunt with less between the ears than you. While he was attending to Junior, I bolted. I don’t think Junior made it clear to his underlings that I was to be a semi-permanent guest. Not the most trusting fellow. Neither is his dad.”
“Does anyone else know about you and your program? Any other groups like Pym?”
“Doubtful. There’s so little trust within that organization I’d be shocked if anyone aside from Junior knows the full story. Rumor is he’s looking to screw over his old man first chance he gets, and my program could make that happen. In any case, the company would want to keep it under wraps. If word leaked out, they’d have competition.”
“So, we cut the head off of the snake,” Bones said. “Or heads. Deal with the Pyms and Sally’s safe.”
“I could look up Alex Vaccaro,” Maddock said. “Get the FBI on the case if she’s still with the bureau.” Alex Vaccaro had helped them out of a few jams in the past, but it had been years since they’d spoken.
“But that would only initiate an investigation,” Corey said. “That can be a slow, laborious process with an uncertain outcome.”
Maddock nodded. “So even if we can get help, we need to get you two to safety for the short term.”
“Or we just take the two of them out?” Bones offered.
“We’re not assassins.”
“I know. Just talking out of my ass.”
“You might could get to Junior,” Sally said, “but dad is a different matter. Although, like I said, I’m not certain he knows I exist.”
“Here’s what I think,” Maddock began. “We get the authorities on the case. If it’s not Alex, then there’s bound to be a friend of a friend who will get the ball rolling. If nothing else, that will draw Pym’s attention.”
“That’s a start, I suppose,” Sally said.
“Have you tried hacking... I mean, digging into Pym’s system? Maybe find some incriminating evidence that could help shut him down or at least keep him at bay?”
“Not really. I’d risk drawing attention to myself.”
“We’ve got a friend we can put on the job. He’s trustworthy and capable. He’ll let us know if he can’t do it without drawing attention, but it’s worth a try.”
“Jimmy?” Corey asked. “Why not me?”
Maddock grinned. “I’ve got another job for the two of you.” He looked from Corey to Sally.
Bones caught on immediately. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he said. “We’ve got a massive database of possible lost treasures.”
“Who has a database?” Corey asked.
“Fine. It’s your database. You tell her,” Bones said.
“We’re treasure hunters. I’m constantly adding new data: myths and legends, geographical data. The only predictive capabilities I have relate to shipwrecks and the effects of currents and extreme weather on location. But if we could apply your system to my data...”
Sally’s brow furrowed. “So you wanna get rich, too. Is that it?”
“We just need a good reason to get out of Dodge for a while. Treasure hunting is what we do. Of course, if it paid the bills, I wouldn’t mind.”
“I assume this is more than a simple matter of you choosing a treasure and I predict where we find it.”
“Exactly. It needs to be obscure, in a remote location, but with a high probability of success.”
“Meaning we shouldn’t go after something stupid, like the Loch Ness Monster.”
The three men exchanged amused glances, but Sally was already in gear. She retrieved her laptop and fired it up.
“Okay, ginger,” she said to Corey, “I’m going to make some tweaks on my end. You work out how I can access your data. We’ll also need to start trawling the web in case I find something better than what you’ve got.”
“I’ve got almost a terabyte of info,” Corey said. “A veritable treasure trove, so to speak. I just hope you have enough computing power in that little tablet of yours.”
“Want to lay a bet on it?”
“Dinner at the restaurant of the winner’s choice after this is all over?” Corey asked.
“Deal.”
They shook hands and set to work. Swapping instructions at a rapid-fire clip, tossing out terms and acronym, making suggestions and rejecting the others’ ideas.
Bones turned to Maddock. “Remember that TV show called King of the Nerds?”
Sally rolled her eyes. “Yeah, why don’t you try doing something useful, like making me a nice cup of coffee?”
“How do you take it?”
“Like you—big, strong, and nothing else in it.”
Bones chuckled and retreated to the kitchen while Maddock grabbed his phone and headed to the front door. His first call was to the last known number for Alex Vaccaro—a cellphone. To his surprise, it was her that answered.
“Dane Maddock. What are the odds you’re in trouble and need a favor?”
“You wound me,” Maddock said. “I’m calling in a tip.”
“Would you happen to be tipping me off about someone who is giving you trouble?”
“Are you psychic?” Maddock asked.
“No, you’re just predictable. When did I last hear from you?”
“I called you when the Dolphins beat the Redskins.”
“Three years ago you called me to gloat, and you didn’t even talk to me. You left a voicemail. Christ, who uses voicemail anymore? You call if you want to talk, text if you want to leave a message.”
“I get it. I’m a crappy friend. I’ll do better. But can I at least tell you what’s going on?”
“Shoot.”
Maddock outlined the situation as succinctly as he could.
“I’ve heard of Pym. The Bureau is aware of him but as far as I know, he’s never been accused of any crimes. Wouldn’t shock me though. We can take a look at the local precinct where the café was located, mention his name, stir the hornet’s nest a little. That should get his attention.”
“Which makes it imperative that Sally and Bones are kept safe. They’re the only witnesses to the incident,” Maddock thought aloud.
“Exactly,” Alex said. “You’re on your own there, I’m afraid.”
“I can handle it.”
“Good. I’ll do what I can, but it would help if we had something, anything, to incriminate him.”
“I’ve got a plan for that, too,” Maddock said.
“I don’t want to know any details. Just, get somewhere safe and I’ll keep you posted.”
Maddock thanked her, then made a call to Jimmy Letson. As usual, his friend berated him for only calling when he needed a favor, although that wasn’t strictly true where Jimmy was concerned. In any case, he agreed to cyber sniff around Pym in exchange for a bottle of liquor.
Maddock’s third call was to Willis.
“What’s up, Maddock?”
“How’s it going down there?”
“Matt and Doc are still ripping the guts out of our starboard engine. How about you?”
“We’re working on a plan. Any signs of trouble down there?”
“Yeah, I was going to call. I heard from one of the bartenders at Sloppy Joe’s that there’s been two guys nosing around, looking for someone named Bones. They don’t know his real name or anything else about him, but Key West is small and Bones stands out. I’m sure they’ll track him down sooner or later. I was thinking Matt and I would crash at Bones’ place and try to catch them in the act.”
“No,” Maddock said. “Better to avoid these guys if we can. Besides, I’m lining up a job. You and Matt get ready to move out. Tell Doc he’s in charge, then grab the uplink, the coms, the side scan sonar unit, and our data recorder. We’ll want our scuba gear, but forget the tanks. Box it all to travel.”
“Will do.” The pleasure in Willis’ voice was evident. The man hated inaction. “Where’s this job?”
“I hope to know by the time you get here.”